


bend toward justice

by daisy_chains



Series: Merlin Fics [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Elyan Lives, Episode: s05e07 A Lesson in Vengeance, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, M/M, Tyr Seward Lives, canon? never heard of it, they both deserved BETTER
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisy_chains/pseuds/daisy_chains
Summary: The castle halls are silent save for his footsteps as he wanders, no destination in mind. Something about this night leaves his magic restless, tossing and turning and anxious for a fight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Name inspired by Martin Luther King Jr.'s quote, "Let us realize the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice."

The castle halls are silent save for his footsteps as he wanders, no destination in mind. Something about this night leaves his magic restless, tossing and turning and anxious for a fight. 

Eventually, Merlin finds himself walking a familiar path to the dungeons and for a moment, he debates visiting Kilgharrah’s old prison. The decision is cut short as he ducks into an alcove and out of sight as another set of footsteps approach. 

He recognizes the figure as they pass him immediately. 

_Gwen_? 

The queen walks past, her head held high and a satisfied smile toying at her lips. 

_But why would she_ \- 

There’s an inkling of a thought, one that fills him with dread even as he refuses to acknowledge it. Instead, Merlin pushes any and all thoughts and turns to instinct, letting it return him to his path, to where the queen had come from. 

The guards all startle, rising to their feet and drawing their swords as he runs down the steps. They call out, rush after him, but his only focus is on who he can’t see yet, so he keeps running, turns another corner and -

And sees exactly what he hoped he wouldn’t. The guards halt when they reach him, see the same thing he does. 

“Keys,” he says, taking another step toward the cell that holds Tyr Seward, who lies on the floor in a small pool of blood. A guard scrambles to do as told, forgetting in this moment that Merlin is nothing but a servant and there’s no force behind his orders. As soon as the cell door opens, he’s in, kneeling beside someone he considered a friend, checking for a pulse he doesn’t expect to find. 

But he does. Faint and fading, but undeniably there and he chokes out a laugh. To the guards he says to fetch Gaius, to fetch supplies he knows Gaius will need, to track down _whoever_ he had seen on his way here. 

He does not mention that he knows who it is, that it is their queen. He thinks they might already know, might be denying it to themselves. 

But one by one, the guards leave, off on their own missions, and he finds himself alone in a dungeon cell with a dying man. 

With one hand placed on the stab wound from which the blood flows, he releases the firm hold he has over his magic. It rushes through him, to Tyr’s wound, dragging him back from death and snarling at the familiar presence of the one who guards the veil. They do not attempt to stop him. 

And yet time is cut short by the sound of footsteps, guards returning with Gaius and Arthur in tow. Carefully, he withdraws his magic, letting it linger as long as he dare.

Tyr will not die tonight, he is sure, but there is still the matter of who almost killed the man. 

As Arthur’s footsteps approach at a not-quite-run, his magic retreats. The king bursts in and stands in the doorway, moving to the side to let Gaius in before returning to his self-assigned post. The guards linger in the hall, awaiting orders.

Gwen is not here, possibly missed the king being summoned by barely a moment. It’s a relief. 

“How is he?” Arthur asks before Gaius can even kneel at Tyr’s side opposite of Merlin. It takes him a minute to realize it’s because the king is, in fact, asking him. 

“Alive,” is all he says, turning to Gaius because he isn’t sure how to turn “ _he was dying but now he isn’t_ ” into something that won’t make anyone suspect magic. 

His mentor frowns at him briefly, but he’s not paying attention at that point. Exhaustion dances at the edge of his vision and if not for his determination to not fall asleep where he sits, Merlin would’ve crashed the instant he finished healing Tyr. 

It’s all he can do to make his way back to Gaius’ chambers and into the chair beside Tyr’s new temporary place of residence on the patients’ cot before exhaustion wins.

⁋

The sounds of the door creaking open draws Merlin out of his restless sleep. Footsteps pad across the room to where he sits, eyes closed, and a hand falls on his shoulder. 

“You do know you can sleep in your own bed, don’t you?” Arthur shakes his shoulder, pretending he doesn’t know the servant is already awake. “Just looking at you makes my neck hurt.” 

Halfheartedly batting at the king’s arm, Merlin cracks one eye open to glare at the offending limb. 

“Prat,” he grumbles, but sits up when Arthur fails to cease his assault. “Alright, alright, I’m up.” 

“Good. Now, you can go to bed and get some rest.” 

“Aw, Arthur, didn’t think you cared.” 

“I don’t,” he scoffs. “But I will be very busy searching for whoever was behind this and cannot have an incompetent fool following me around.” 

Then Merlin rises to his feet only to immediately lose his balance. Arthur grabs him before he can fall flat on his face and continues. 

“Or rather, and even more incompetent fool following me around.” He ignores Merlin’s responding insult in favor of pushing him toward his room. “Gwen will be down here to watch Tyr, you can stop mother henning him now.”

The “ _I’m the mother hen_?” on his lips dies as who will be here, alone with Tyr, clicks in. 

“Gwen?” Merlin asks, shrugging off Arthur’s hold on his shoulders to turn and stare at the king. “Are you… sure that is a good idea?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well, if someone is after Tyr, then it might be better if Gwen isn’t here.” 

“Nonsense,” Arthur says, reaching out unsuccessfully to continue directing Merlin to his room, “guards will be stationed outside Gaius’ chambers, they’ll be perfectly safe.” 

“Yeah, well, there were knights in the dungeons, too, and look what happened.” Merlin pauses, hesitant. Then, he adds, “right after Gwen visited, too.” 

That gives Arthur pause, a conflicted expression crossing his face for half a moment before he sighs. “Fine, you may have a point.” 

“And?” Merlin allows himself to once again be guided to his room, reminding himself to tease the king about his mother henning later. 

“I’ll have either Gwaine or Percival sit in with Tyr, if that’ll make your poor little heart feel better.”

Once Arthur is satisfied Merlin doesn’t plan on crawling out of bed the instant he’s left unsupervised, he leaves. The warlock stays in bed, but resists sleep until the familiar sound of a knight’s footsteps stalk through the door. 

As he drifts away, his magic reaches out without a thought and curls around the home of Gelda Seward, settling in like a dragon guarding their nest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too tired to be making decisions but I'm still here so I'm posting this now apparently


	2. Chapter 2

In the end, Gwaine is the one Merlin finds sitting beside Tyr, flicking through a journal Merlin had caught him with once or twice before. 

“Ah, Merlin,” Gwaine says upon seeing him, “you’re awake.” 

“How’s Tyr?” He asks, making his way to the unconscious man’s side.

“Alright, Gaius checked on him a few hours ago. Gwen stopped by shortly after that, too.” 

“Did she now?” Merlin is careful to keep his voice even, disinterested, but judging by the knight’s narrowed eyes, he doesn’t quite manage it. Still, Gwaine doesn’t pry when he says nothing. 

“So how are you, mate?” 

“Tired, a bit sore. Nothing too bad, so I can’t complain.” 

“Gaius left a potion for you,” Gwaine responds, nodding toward a bottle of grey liquid on the edge of the table next to an apple and a roll of bread. “Said to eat first, though.” 

“Thanks.” As Merlin does as instructed, sitting at the table facing Tyr, Gwaine returns to his journal. He ignores it despite the persistent curiosity that spikes at its reappearance. Instead, he grabs one of Gaius’ many books on medicine bordering on magic and settles back at the table, tossing his apple at the knight’s back. 

Gwaine catches it somehow, a skill Merlin can’t help but be impressed by. 

⁋

When Tyr does eventually wake, it’s when Merlin has returned to his self-assigned post at his side and Gwen has accompanied Arthur on his visit to check in with Gaius. Tyr wakes and the instant he catches sight of the queen, what little color he regained drains from his face. 

And Merlin wants to cry. He really, really does. Instead of breaking down on the spot, he puts himself between Tyr and the queen, reaching out to grab Tyr’s hands. 

“It’s alright,” he says, voice low enough that the three caught up in conversation on the other side of the room cannot hear. “It’s alright, I won’t let her hurt you again and I won’t let her hurt your mother.” 

His words do little to calm the man, but it’s enough. 

“Gaius, he’s awake.” Merlin turns, stares down the two royals who immediately take a step toward the patient’s cot. Arthur takes one look at him and sighs. 

“We’ll need an update when you get the chance, Gaius,” the king says, nodding once before he exits, the queen following him out reluctantly.

⁋

Merlin doesn’t leave Tyr’s side unless Gwaine is in the room as well. He can’t explain why, can’t explain beyond “ _it’s Gwaine_ ,” but that isn’t an explanation and he knows it. Then Gwaine looks at him like he _knows_ and Merlin isn’t sure how to express that in words, so he doesn’t try. 

“It’s Gwaine,” is the only thing he can say, so that’s what he says when Arthur asks, once again, why he refuses to leave Tyr on his own. 

And funnily enough, it’s Gwaine who understands what he means. The knight throws an arm over his shoulders and grins. 

“What do you expect, Arthur? It’s me, after all. I’m one of a kind.” 

The king grumbles something teasing about birds of a feather, glares a bit, then accepts defeat. After all, it’s bad enough against one of them, but them both? No, even he knows better. 

“Thanks,” Merlin says, leaning into Gwaine’s side. 

“Anything for you, mate,” the knight responds, then sings bawdy tavern songs horribly and purposely off key until Tyr begs Merlin to leave and the warlock is all but fleeing the room. 

“Prat,” he shouts over his shoulder as he not-quite runs, shamelessly covering his ears with his hands. Gwaine just laughs. 

⁋

Five days after Tyr wakes, Merlin and Gwaine sit side by side on the steps leading to Gaius’ chambers to give Tyr some privacy while Gaius checks him over. 

“It’s Gwen, isn’t it?” 

Merlin jumps, startled out of his task of checking the protections cast on Tyr’s mother. 

“What?” 

“It’s Gwen,” Gwaine repeats. “She’s the one who stabbed Tyr.” 

“That’s treason to suggest, you know,” he says, but does not deny it. Gwaine nods. It does not escape his notice what has been left unsaid. 

“Still don’t know what happened to Morgana. Or why she wasn’t at the Dark Tower.” 

“We don’t.” 

The door opening behind them signals the end of their conversation. And if, when they return to the room, Gwaine notices how Merlin refuses to sit with his back to the door or how he keeps glancing at it as though a threat is about to storm in, he doesn’t mention it. 

⁋

Seven days after Tyr wakes, the man has yet to tell Arthur who tried to kill him and Arthur is at his wit’s end. Merlin trails after him, casting spell after spell of protection as he leaves Tyr with only Gaius for company for the first time since he almost died. 

“What are you going to do?” He asks once Arthur has retreated to his room, pacing like a caged animal. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I _can_ do.” Arthur pauses, fists clenching and unclenching. “He refuses to tell me who tried to kill him, who is blackmailing him. He isn’t giving me much to work with.” 

For a moment, Merlin almost opens his mouth, almost says, “ _I know who it is_.” He doesn’t. 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you eventually,” he says instead. 

⁋

“Should I tell him?” 

Gwaine doesn’t respond, toying with the dagger in his hands as they once again sit on Gaius’ steps. 

“I mean,” Merlin continues, “he needs to know at some point and he’s more likely to believe it if I tell him than if Tyr tells him.” 

“Mate, will he believe you? That’s all that matters.” 

“No, I don’t think he will. Especially not without proof.” The warlock stands and walks down the steps to pace in the corridor. 

“So what do we have?” 

“What?” Merlin pauses, staring up the stairs at him.

“What proof do we have?” 

“I saw Gwen leaving the dungeons, that’s why I went down there,” he admits. “And when Tyr saw her after waking up, he…” 

“Alright, that’s a good start.” Gwaine watches him pace for a moment longer, lets the conversation drop for now. “Merlin, come here.”

He hesitates, a question on his lips, but the knight pats the stair beside him and his feet lead him back to his spot on the stair before he realizes he’s moving. An arm wraps around him as he sits, tugging him against Gwaine’s side. Merlin lets it, sinking willingly into the hold as his head falls against Gwaine’s shoulder. 

“We’ll figure this out.” 

“Thanks, Gwaine.” 

⁋

Twelve days after Tyr wakes, Gwaine bursts into Gaius’ chambers with a grin on his face and what Merlin is sure are stolen pastries in hand. 

“I’ve got it!”

Gwaine tosses the pastries to Tyr, who fumbles with them for a moment before handing one to Merlin. 

“Got what?” Tyr asks. 

“How we prove to Princess that Gwen hasn’t been herself of late.”

As Gwaine drops into a seat beside him, Merlin rips his pastry in half and hands it to him. 

“Alright, how? Nothing short of seeing her -” Merlin cuts off, and waves his pastry half at the knight. “ _Oh_.”

“More than just a pretty face, mate.” 

“Mm, yea, but your face _is_ quite pretty.” 

Gwaine laughs and opens his mouth to respond, but Tyr’s scoff cuts him off.

“You know, I’m the one stuck in this room, so if you two want to keep flirting, find another one.” 

Despite the warmth that spreads across his cheeks, Merlin joins Gwaine in laughter and shakes his head. 

“Don’t worry, Tyr,” he tells him, “we’ll keep it to a minimum.” 

“Thank the gods,” Tyr responds, though his grin belies any true irritation. The grin falls, however, as the trio turns back to more the more pressing topic. “How are you going to get the king to see the queen working with Morgana?” 

“Well,” Merlin says, sharing a glance with Gwaine, “I suppose one of the perks of being manservant to the king is also knowing his and the queen’s schedules. I’ll look out for any sudden disappearances.”

“And then what?” Gwaine asks. “You just gonna get the Princess and go?”

“That’s probably all I’ll have time for, if I don’t want to lose track of Gwen.” 

Though he frowns, displeased at the idea of being left behind, Merlin is sure, Gwaine nods. “It’s the best plan we’ve got.” 

“It’s the _only_ plan we’ve got.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyr deserved better and also fuck canon :)


	3. Chapter 3

They don’t have to wait long.

Two days after their “simple but bound to go wrong” plan is set in motion, as Tyr dubbed it, Merlin notices Gwen’s missing cloak as he’s putting away Arthur’s clothes before leaving for the night. 

“Where’s Gwen?” He asks, not turning to face Arthur in case he can’t quite hide his hopelessness. “It’s a bit late to still be out.”

“What are you, her mother?” Arthur huffs in response, but shakes his head as Merlin half-turns toward him. “She said she needed to speak to the Steward and that she’d be back soon.” 

Merlin hesitates, considers going to get Gwaine. He sighs. 

“I need to show you something,” he says instead, “now.” 

And there’s a flash of regret, a longing to not have to bear the burden of telling Arthur what has happened to Gwen, but he shoves it aside when Arthur shoots him an incredulous look.

“What, can’t this wait?” He asks. 

“It can’t.” Merlin expects Arthur to dismiss him, to say he’s being an idiot. He doesn’t. 

Instead, he takes one look at Merlin’s face and nods. 

“Alright,” he says, standing from his desk, “show me.” 

⁋

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur grumbles under his breath as the servant shoves him behind a tree after leading him well into the forest. “What are we doing out here?”

“I know who tried to kill Tyr, who tried to kill you,” Merlin responds, and he has to pause for a moment. That is the first time he’s said it aloud, the first time it hasn’t been implied then left to sit heavily in his mind. “They’re meeting Morgana.”

Cursing violently, Arthur kicks at a stone resting near the base of the tree. 

“Who is it?” 

Merlin shakes his head, not quite meeting Arthur’s eyes. 

“She isn’t herself, Arthur. You need to know that,” he says instead. “She’s enchanted.”

A pause. Then, “ _who is it_?”

It is in this instant Gwen chooses to emerge from the undergrowth, glancing around the forest. A moment passes, then two, and Morgana appears beside her. 

“How fares our dear Arthur?” She asks after greeting Gwen with a hug. Beside him, Arthur has frozen in shock, betrayal and grief etching familiar lines across his face. 

“He doesn’t suspect a thing,” Gwen answers, though Merlin only half-catches her words, too focused on Arthur to particularly care at this point. 

Slowly, he reaches out a hand and rests it on Arthur’s shoulders. 

“She’s working with Morgana,” Arthur breathes, two seconds from barging in on their meeting and swinging his sword at anything within reach. Merlin tightens his hold on his shoulder. 

“She’s _enchanted_.” Merlin nudges him back in the direction of the castle. Arthur lets himself be guided away, though not without a last look over his shoulder where the two women still speak. 

⁋

Gwaine is pacing outside Gaius’ chambers when Merlin returns, Arthur in tow. He glances up as they round the corner, takes one look at the king, and steps out of the way. 

At the motion, Arthur halts. Then, after narrowing his eyes at Gwaine for a moment, he turns on his heel and stalks away. 

“Arthur -”

“Not now, Merlin,” the king growls out, though his footsteps falter. “Just - am I the last to know? Am I always the last to know?” 

Merlin doesn’t respond, doesn’t know _how_ to respond. Arthur waits, then huffs a laugh that lacks any humor. He keeps walking. 

“Have we gone about this the wrong way?” Merlin asks once Arthur has vanished from sight. “Should I have just told him?” 

Gwaine sighs and shakes his head, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. 

“We didn’t have many other options, mate.” He nods toward the door to Gaius’ chambers. “Let’s just get some rest and figure out what we should do now, later.” 

Though he hesitates, hating the idea of Arthur being alone right now and undoubtedly not returning to his own chambers anytime soon, Merlin nods. 

“Alright,” he says. There isn’t much he can do now, anyway, but at the very least, he can tell Tyr that Arthur knows. 

⁋

Merlin expects Gwaine to leave. He doesn’t. 

Tyr is already asleep, though he tosses and turns as though he can sense the unease of the two lingering in the main chamber, and Gaius is gods know where. Merlin thinks he said something about staying in the Lower Town to keep an eye on someone. 

Maybe, Merlin thinks, Gwaine plans to sleep here to keep an eye on Tyr, since Gaius isn’t there. Instead, he follows Merlin up to his room and sits beside him on the bed. 

“I’ll tell Tyr about Arthur in the morning,” he says, for a lack of anything else to say. 

“Sounds like a good idea.” Gwaine shifts closer, hand twitching toward Merlin in an aborted movement. Merlin’s brow furrows. “You gonna be alright?”

The question startles a laugh out of Merlin, though for the life of him, he can’t explain why. 

“Of course. I’m alright. Just worried about Arthur.” 

With a sigh, Gwaine presses his shoulder against Merlin’s. Merlin sinks into the gesture. 

“Gwen is your friend, too. You’re allowed to not be alright.” 

He’s wrong, but Merlin doesn’t argue. He doesn’t know everything, doesn’t know that when Merlin lets himself not be alright, things only get worse. No, Merlin isn’t allowed to not be alright, not till Gwen’s no longer enchanted and Arthur isn’t reeling from a betrayal and Morgana isn’t an immediate threat. 

“You are, too,” Merlin says instead of all the words tumbling through his mind. “Allowed to not be alright, I mean.” 

Gwaine huffs a quiet laugh, then nods. “I know. Thanks, Merlin.” 

Merlin hums, sinking further into Gwaine’s side. For his part, Gwaine huffs another laugh and his arm finds its way back around Merlin’s shoulders. 

It’s nice. 

“Go to sleep, Merlin,” Gwaine says. “Everyone’ll be fine until morning. You can fuss over them then.” 

And as much as Merlin would like to protest, his eyes burn and his side is comfortably warm where it’s pressed against Gwaine and sleep is too tempting to resist. 

As his eyes fall shut, he sends out one last pulse of magic, strengthening the wards surrounding Gaius’ chambers and the wards surrounding Gelda Seward’s house. 

If nothing else, no one will be intruding there. Not tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> double update today, and chapter five should be out soon!


	4. Chapter 4

“Merlin,” someone says, “you’ve gotta wake up, mate.” 

The man in question grumbles disagreement, burying his face into his pillow. Wakefulness lacks appeal, he’d much rather remain here, curled under his blanket. And then his pillow starts to shake. 

“Mate, come on,” the person says, patting his shoulder lightly as they laugh. It takes Merlin a moment, to make the connection between the person and his pillow and the fact that his pillow isn’t shaking, it’s _laughing_ and -

“Oh, gods,” he groans. He rolls off of his person-pillow only to bury his face in his _actual_ pillow and groan again. 

“Nope,” the someone known as Gwaine says, and he was using _Gwaine_ as a pillow, gods why. Gwaine rests a hand against his back and really, he should just leave Merlin here to perish from embarrassment, it’s been a long time coming, honestly. “We’ve got to tell Tyr about last night, then we’ve got a prat to deal with.” 

“Since when are you the responsible one?” Merlin asks in responds, muffled by his pillow. 

“Since you were temporarily out of commission,” Gwaine answers, “and I’d rather _not_ be the responsible one, so get up, mate. Your turn.” 

With a few grumbled curses, Merlin rolls onto his back, and onto the floor. 

“Ow.” 

“Uh, mate.” Gwaine can’t continue, too busy laughing. Eventually, he coughs back his amusement and peers over the side of the bed. “You usually like this in the morning?” 

“I’m not usually this bad, no,” Merlin says, staring at the ceiling. The gods are laughing, he’s sure of it. They’re having a right laugh at Merlin’s expense and the worst part is that Merlin can’t blame them for it one bit. “I forgot how small the bed was when there’s more than one person occupying it.” 

Gwaine laughs again, and it’s unfair, really, how attractive he is having just woken up. Not a hair out of place, and Merlin is about ready to accuse him of foul play because how is that possible without magic or - or - Merlin doesn’t know. Or something. 

“Just…you go on ahead,” Merlin says eventually. “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

“I won’t come back up and find you passed out on the floor, will I? That’s more of something I’d do.” 

“No,” Merlin responds, waving a hand toward the door, “I just need a moment to die in peace, then I’ll be up.” 

Gwaine snorts another laugh, but nods. “Alright, see you in a minute.” 

The door shuts, and Merlin waits until Gwaine’s footsteps reach the main room and he can hear Tyr calling out a greeting. Then, he reaches onto the bed and grabs the pillow, covering his face to muffle his unintelligible grumbling. 

He keeps it up for all of half a minute, then tosses the pillow back onto the bed and shoves himself onto his feet. 

“The responsible one,” he snorts, “yeah, right.” 

⁋

“So Arthur knows?” Tyr asks the instant Merlin steps foot outside his room. 

Merlin glances at Gwaine, who shrugs. “He asked what happened.” 

“Yea, he knows,” Merlin says, walking over to where an almost too stale loaf of bread sits. “Should probably go get food.” 

“Probably,” Gwaine agrees, “but I’ll handle it. I’m sure the Princess will be more of a prat today than he normally is.” 

“My word.” With a sigh, Merlin nods, then turns to Tyr. “Do you want anything? I mean, it can get pretty boring, being confined to one room.” 

“I’m alright,” Tyr says, “but I’ll let you know if I think of anything.” 

Merlin nods again, tossing slices of stale bread to Tyr and Gwaine. 

“Sorry, Gwaine,” he says, “but you’re on breakfast duty. I do _not_ want to be late today.” 

With that, he stuffs his own piece of bread in his mouth and dashes out the door. He is not looking forward to today. 

⁋

He was right to not look forward to today. Knight training finds him being used for a training dummy, and after he falls on his backside for the seventh time, he stays down. 

“Come on, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur says, though where his usual teasing lilt would be, there’s only a frigidity that sends shivers down Merlin’s spine. Arthur isn’t only upset about Gwen’s betrayal. No, he’s upset with Merlin, too, and Merlin isn’t enchanted or being forced into that perceived betrayal. “We aren’t done yet.” 

“Oh, don’t be a prat, Princess,” Gwaine calls from the side of the field. “He’s been knocked on his rear enough for a day, give him a break.” 

“And would you rather take his place?” 

Gwaine meets Arthur’s stare, and another shiver goes down Merlin’s spine. This isn’t good. This is _not good_. 

“I’m fine, Gwaine,” he says, shoving himself onto his feet for the eighth bout of being beat around. “Don’t worry about me.” 

They ignore him, and Merlin chances a glance at the other knights. It’s obvious something isn’t right, and they’ve all picked up on it.

Leon takes a step toward Arthur, but after meeting Merlin’s gaze, he stops. Merlin doesn’t quite understand _why_ , but he won’t complain. Instead, he takes Leon’s place, walking toward Arthur until he stands between the king and the knight. 

“It’s _alright_ ,” he says. “Let’s just get it over with.” 

Gwaine shifts his stare from Arthur to Merlin. Merlin breathes a shaky sigh of relief, then nods. After returning the gesture, Gwaine settles back in the sidelines, though not without shooting Arthur another look of warning. 

“Well, what are we all standing around for?” Arthur asks after a moment, pushing Merlin back to where he’ll be facing the next knight. “This is training, not the gossip corner.”

⁋

After training, Arthur dismisses Merlin. He mutters something about having seen enough of Merlin’s incompetent face today, but Merlin has a feeling it has more to do with being left alone with the person he usually confides in when he’s alone with said person. 

Merlin feels bad, he does. Not for withholding the fact he knew, that Gwaine knew, but for the timing of it all. To see that he and Gwaine knew, had known for a while, just after discovering Gwen’s allegiance to Morgana for himself? That was a strong blow dealt, and seeing Gwaine and Merlin, it only worsened the damage. For that, Merlin feels bad. 

Still, his aching body feels worse. As he stumbles through the door to Gaius’ chambers, he’s greeted with a sympathetic grimace from Tyr and a raised eyebrow from Gaius, who had returned sometime between Merlin leaving that morning and Gwaine leaving for training.

“Arthur’s not happy with me,” he says in answer to the Eyebrow, then collapses onto the bench. “He’s being a prat about it.” 

“And what did you do?” Gaius asks, rifling through the shelves. Maybe, hopefully, for something that will stop his body from screaming in pain whenever he so much as breathes. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” There’s a disbelieving huff, to which Merlin very much _does not_ whine, “I didn’t! But he knows about Gwen.” 

The clinking of bottles stops. 

“Probably should’ve started with that.” 

“That would have been helpful,” Gaius responds, returning to his search through the shelves. 

“But he also knows Gwaine and I knew, so he’s mad about not being the first to know.” Merlin sighs, flailing one arm toward the door. “And as if that’s not bad enough, I was afraid for a minute that he and Gwaine were going to start fighting in front of everyone.” 

“What happened?” Tyr asks, setting down his bowl of what Merlin thinks is stew. He isn’t sure if it’s better or worse than what Gwaine made after he left. 

“I don’t know,” Merlin says, even as a voice in the back of his mind screams at him for lying. “I got knocked on the ground while being used as a training target, and Gwaine told him to give me a break. I guess Arthur was upset about him interrupting what he viewed as stress relief.” 

Though he doesn’t say anything, Merlin catches the frown that flashes across Tyr’s face. 

“Don’t worry, he never does anything too bad. And if it bothered me much, I’d tell him to shove off.” 

Tyr looks doubtful still, but he nods. 

“You might want to send him my way if this happens again,” Gaius grumbles as he makes his way around the table, bottle of ointment in hand, and nudges Merlin into a sitting position. “You won’t be much use to anybody like this.” 

“Thanks.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.” 

⁋

Gwaine makes an appearance just before Gaius serves dinner. 

“You should be able to move around tomorrow,” Gaius is telling Tyr, “as long as it’s not too strenuous. Keep it to this room, for now.” 

Merlin catches Tyr’s nod out of the corner of his eye, but is too focused on the bruise Gwaine is now sporting on his left cheek. 

“Where’d you get that?” He asks as he walks over to greet the knight where he lingers in front of the door. 

“Had a talk with the Princess,” Gwaine says. 

Merlin sighs, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes Gwaine toward the bench, then walks toward the shelves. It isn’t lost on him, that his earlier position has been reversed. 

“Was Gwen there?” He asks as he walks back over to Gwaine and sits beside him. “I haven’t seen her since this morning.” 

“She was, but she left. Claimed she wanted to give us some privacy.” 

“She didn’t listen in, did she?” Merlin frowns, worry blooming in his chest, then curses as Gwaine’s eyes widen. “Did neither of you think to check?” 

Without waiting for an answer, Merlin stands and dashes out the door. Nothing good would come from Gwen having overheard any conversation between Gwaine and Arthur, and if Gwaine didn’t check, then it’s likely Arthur didn’t either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is Merlin a bit more of a disaster than I think he might actually be? perhaps. am I projecting? perhaps. 
> 
> not completely happy with this, cos Gwaine & Arthur feel a bit ooc? idk maybe I'm imagining things, but if they came across that way, my apologies. also that last scene just completely destroyed the rest of my outline because apparently I can't stick to an outline asjlgjkgs but for once I know where I'm going with this story so it's fine.


	5. Chapter 5

When Merlin crashes through the door to Arthur’s chambers, it’s to Gwen and Arthur sitting at the table having dinner. 

Both startle at his arrival, Arthur half out of his seat and reaching for a sword that isn’t there and Gwen gripping her fork, prepared to stab an intruder. Merlin’s frayed nerves settle for all of half a second before he notices the dark magic gathering in the corner of the room, hidden from mortal eyes. 

“Arthur, look out!” He yells, scrambling across the table to shove Arthur out of the way in the same instant the dark magic rushes forward, straight for the king. 

The magic hits Merlin instead, and the last thing he remembers before darkness crashes around him is a scream and pain shooting through his torso as he crashes to the ground. 

⁋

As Merlin falls to the ground, his precarious perch on the table lost in the wake of being hit by the spell, Arthur reaches out in an attempt to catch him. He fails, too far away and too tangled up with the chair that had toppled when Merlin had shoved him out of the way.

Still, the instant he separates himself from the chair, he crawls to Merlin’s side.

“Come on, Merlin, get up,” he says, shaking his shoulder in an effort to rouse him. Merlin doesn’t react. Arthur keeps it up until the sound of a sword being unsheathed comes from behind him. 

He turns around, only to be met with the sight of Guinevere standing behind him, sword raised and pointed at him. 

“Morgana said her spell was infallible, unless Merlin decided to make an appearance,” she says, sneering at the fallen servant. “It appears she was right.” 

“Guinevere, what -” 

“Oh, please, I know you know.” At Arthur’s dumbstruck expression, she smiles. It’s cold and sharp, and Arthur would do anything to wipe it away, replace it with a real smile, not this enchanted, hateful one. “You men, you think you’re invincible. Didn’t even bother to check for spies before you and that idiot knight started arguing, did you?” 

There’s a split second of confusion, then regret. Guinevere is right about one thing, they are idiots. And worst of all, it may have cost Merlin his life. 

He isn’t allowed to linger on the thought for long, however, because then Guinevere is there, his sword in her hands and swinging toward him and his eyes fall shut without his permission and _this is how I die_ and - 

And the clang of sword hitting sword rings through the air. 

Eyes flying open, Arthur stares at the two swords straining against each other a hand’s length from his face, then at the man wielding the sword. 

Gwaine’s face is grim, brows furrowed in concentration, and he doesn’t spare Arthur a glance. 

“Sorry, Gwen,” he says, voice low and thick with an emotion Arthur can’t identify, “but I can’t let you hurt anyone else.” 

Arthur turns away as the two fight, refocusing on Merlin. Merlin is exactly as he left him, sprawled out on his stomach and far paler than normal. And still, no matter what Arthur does, Merlin doesn’t react. 

Arthur looks over his shoulder just as Gwaine disarms Guinevere, then grabs her arms to restrain her before she can do anything else. 

“Get him to Gaius,” Gwaine says, nodding at Merlin, “and send someone to help me with her. Percival, Leon, Elyan. Someone who can keep their mouth shut.” 

And despite the fact that if anyone should be giving orders here, it should be Arthur, he nods, and does as he is told. After all, it isn’t as though he has a better plan. 

⁋

Shortly after Arthur leaves with Merlin, there’s a knock on the door, followed by Elyan’s voice. 

“Come in,” Gwaine calls before Gwen has the chance to say anything. She fights against his hold on her arms, screaming something about treason and won’t Elyan help her. Gwaine does his best to ignore her, focuses on what needs to be done. 

When Elyan enters, Gwaine can tell he’s already doing his best to do the same, because his sister is screaming but that’s not his sister doing the screaming, not really, just Morgana’s puppet. 

Elyan meets Gwaine’s gaze, flinches as Gwen begins her struggles anew as she realizes Elyan will not help her. 

“What do you need me to do?” Elyan asks. 

“Get something to bind her wrists with,” Gwaine says. Then, after a moment of hesitation, adds, “and something to gag her. We don’t want her alerting the whole castle that something’s wrong.” 

⁋

Percival and Leon meet them in the dungeons, faces grim. The halls were suspiciously empty on their way there, as is the area where guards are usually posted at the entrance of the dungeons. 

After ensuring the other knights could handle the situation without him, Gwaine bolts right back up the stairs, then to Gaius’ chambers. His heart beats erratically, fearfully, and there’s a familiar sting in the back of his eyes that he hasn’t felt since his mother’s death. 

He bursts into the room, eyes landing on Merlin instantly. He freezes. He can’t help it, not when Merlin is as pale as he was when struck by the dorocha and just as still. It’s unnerving, terrifying. 

A moment passes, then another. Arthur hasn’t looked up from where he kneels beside the patient’s cot, vacated by Tyr to allow Merlin a place to lie. For his part, Tyr lurks at the edge of the room, as though afraid to get too close to the king and the physician. Both look ready to bite the head off anyone who dares to approach. 

Gwaine ignores them, forces unstable legs forward, and drops to the ground beside Arthur, out of Gaius’ way. 

“Is he…?” Gwaine breathes, though he cannot bring himself to finish the question. 

Arthur shakes his head, and Gwaine sends up a prayer of thanks to gods he’s not quite sure he believes in. But if they’re to thank for Merlin’s continued existence, well, he thinks he just might be willing to. 

“I am unsure what spell Morgana used,” Gaius says gravely, settling into a chair opposite of where Arthur and Gwaine kneel. Unable to do anything else, Gwaine guesses. “Which means I do not know how to counteract it, if it is at all possible.” 

“So we wait,” Arthur responds, though distaste is evident in his tone. 

“In the meantime,” Gwaine says, “what do we do with Gwen? Are we gonna let her sit in the dungeons ‘till we figure out what Morgana did to her?” 

“For tonight, yes. We’ll see what tomorrow brings, then decide what’s next.” 

No one likes it, but it’s the best option. Gwaine nods. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been so long since I wrote this, I had to reread a couple times to remember what the heck was going on. anyway, double update tonight because I finally edited what I already had written.


	6. Chapter 6

‘ _Hello_?’ His voice echoes through the empty darkness, accompanied only by the splashing of water as he shifts his feet. The water barely covers his feet, but it is cool and welcoming, far more welcoming than the permanent chill that has sunken deep into his bones. ‘ _Is anyone here_?’

There’s no response. 

He opens his mouth, reaching forward into the darkness, prepares to call out again. 

‘ _Hello, Merlin_.’ 

Merlin. That’s him, isn’t it? It feels… not right, exactly, but familiar. Comforting. 

‘ _Who are you_?’ He asks, turning to face the speaker, only to meet more darkness. He doesn’t like the darkness, is not sure there is anything he wouldn’t do to escape it. ‘ _Where are you_?’

‘ _Don’t worry, my friend_ ,’ the voice says, and a warm breeze floats past, ruffling his hair. ‘ _You can’t see me because it is not your time, not yet_.’

‘ _Time to what_?’ He knows the voice, somehow. He doesn’t know how he knows, can’t place a name to the voice. 

‘ _Time to die_.’ The voice pauses, and he knows he should be remembering something. Something that whispers of pain and gold and - 

Oh. 

‘ _There you are_ ,’ the voice - _her_ voice, the Lady of the Lake, how could he ever forget her voice - says. ‘ _Are you ready to return_?’

‘ _Not really_ ,’ he - Merlin, son of Hunith, son of Balinor, dragonlord and warlock - responds. ‘ _But when am I ever given much of a choice_.’ 

She laughs. ‘ _Oh, Merlin, don’t you ever change._ ’ 

Another pause, longer this time, tension creeping through the lightening air. 

‘ _You can’t linger much longer_ ,’ she warns, ‘ _so listen to me closely_. _Your queen’s enchantment, it can only be removed by the Goddess herself_. _When you return to your friends, you must take her and travel to the Cauldron of Arianrhod._ ’

‘ _What then_?’

‘ _I will meet you there and summon the Goddess_.’ A wave of surprise ripples through him, accompanied by joy at the thought of seeing her once more. ‘ _Now is not the right time to reveal yourself, Merlin, but the time will come, and soon._ ’ 

He opens eyes he had not realized had fallen shut, and he is greeted by the darkness fading, brightening, giving way to light and colors and sounds. 

‘ _I will see you soon_ ,’ she says, and with that, the darkness shatters entirely, gives way to the mortal realm.


	7. Chapter 7

Returning to one’s body after a brief death experience is not pleasant. In fact, if Merlin must describe it in three words, he would call it _worse than death_. It is not meant to happen, is not natural, and for that reason, it is ten times as painful and then has the nerve to send one spiraling straight into a coughing fit. Or, well, _this_ return is met with a coughing fit. He can’t be sure it happens every time. 

Still, not pleasant. 

“Alright, mate,” Gwaine says, voice breaking through the lingering haze, “you’re alright, that’s it, deep breaths.” 

As Merlin settles into himself, finds his breath, he realizes he’s leaning back into Gwaine’s chest, Gwaine’s hands running up and down his arms. 

“That was _horrible_ ,” Merlin croaks, and receives the laugh he was hoping for. “Would not recommend, avoid at all costs.” 

Another hand comes to rest on his forehead, and he cracks open an eye to peer up at Gaius’ fondly exasperated expression. 

“You really must stop doing this,” Gaius says. 

“What, dying?” 

Gaius huffs, shakes his head, then withdraws his hand. 

“How are you feeling?” Gwaine asks. 

“Like I died and came back to life,” Merlin answers, honest as can be despite knowing full well no one here will take it as anything more than an exaggeration. “But I’ll be fine. How long was I unconscious? And where’s Gwen?” 

Gwaine huffs, shaking his head, but Gaius speaks before he has the chance to. 

“All of last night and most of today,” the physician says, retreating from the patient’s cot only long enough to fetch a cup of water. He waits until Merlin drinks the entire cup, then continues. “Gwen is currently being held in the dungeons, under the careful watch of knights the king can trust to keep quiet about her predicament.” 

“Oh, good,” Merlin responds, moving to rise from the cot, only to be stopped by Gwaine’s hand on his shoulder and a quirked brow from him and Gaius alike. He takes one glance at both of them, then sighs in defeat. “Alright, fine. Where’s the prat, anyhow?” 

“Oh, he was here worrying his royal backside off,” Gwaine says with a grin that does not quite reach his eyes. “But the council called for an emergency meeting, and they wouldn’t accept no for an answer.” 

“He informed them that the queen had fallen ill, as had you while assisting me in caring for her,” Gaius adds. “Though I imagine he will be making his way back here as soon as the meeting is finished.” 

Merlin nods, absently taking the bowl of stew offered by Gaius. By the time he realizes anything has been given to him, he’s already finished the bowl. Glancing up to hand it back to Gaius, he meets Gwaine’s worried eyes. 

“You really worried us, mate,” the knight says softly. “Worried _me_.” 

“I…” He trails off, blinking once, twice. “I’m sorry, Gwaine.” 

“Don’t.” Gwaine shakes his head sharply, mouth hardening into a thin line. “Just try not to get in the way of any more deadly spells, yeah?” 

“I’ll try,” Merlin responds. He knows better than to make any promises about this, especially considering his own mortality compared to the others’. Or rather, his lack thereof. The reminder of such leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he shoots upward as he recalls something else, something far more important. 

Gwaine calls his name, concerned, but Merlin only spares him a quick glance before turning to Gaius. 

“I know how to break the enchantment on Gwen,” he says. Immediately, two pairs of wide eyes are on him. He turns, catches sight of Tyr out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, hello Tyr. You’re looking better.”

“And you’re looking worse,” Tyr responds, almost without thinking. He, too, stares wide-eyed at Merlin. “How do we break the enchantment on the queen?” 

“Right.” Turning back to Gaius, Merlin explains. “I figured it out yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t have the chance to say anything before… Anyway. We have to go to the Cauldron of Arianrhod and summon the Goddess to break the enchantment.” 

Gaius’ face pales, though somehow he still manages to display his doubt in Merlin’s story on his face. In response, Merlin shoots him a look promising to explain later, then turns to the other two. 

Neither Gwaine nor Tyr seem to fair any better than Gaius, though both seem more stunned than anything else. He supposes that makes sense, considering they weren’t the ones to die and be informed of this by a woman who dwells in a lake. 

Merlin pauses. When did this become his normal? He can’t quite remember, which would be concerning if he didn’t have better things to worry about. 

“So, uh,” he continues. “Does anyone want to see if the council meeting’s about done? Should probably tell Arthur about this as soon as possible.”

No one speaks for a moment. Merlin fiddles with his bracelet, shifting his gaze from Gaius, then to Gwaine, then to Tyr, then back to Gaius again. He sighs again, dragging it out in an effort to get a response. 

“Oh dear,” he mutters, “I think I broke them.” 

He waits another moment, then shakes his head in defeat. 

“Alright, then. I’ll just go find him myself -” 

“You stay right where you are or I’ll tie you to the cot,” Gaius says without missing a beat, snapping out of his shock. “Gwaine, go find Arthur.” 

Gwaine blinks, nodding slowly. “Yeah, alright.” 

Silence falls again when the door shuts behind the knight, leaving Merlin to fall back onto the cot again with a quiet groan. His eyes fall shut, and he lets himself drift for the time being. There isn’t much else he can do, and the other two still haven’t completely shaken off their startled silence. 

He isn’t sure how long he lies there, listening to Gaius shuffle about and Tyr fidget where he sits. Eventually, two sets of footsteps climb up the stairs leading to Gaius’ chambers, accompanied by the usual bickering that follows Arthur and Gwaine almost as much as it does Arthur and himself. 

“Guess who’s here,” Merlin says lowly, grinning at Tyr’s snort of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this ready to post for like a week and I just completely forgot about it lmao so I'm posting this from my phone and yknow what? html is just that much more frustrating when doing it on a phone


	8. Chapter 8

The instant Arthur and Gwaine step through the door, their bickering stops. 

Arthur continues walking toward where Merlin lays, propped up on his elbows, and watches him carefully, looking for any sign of injury. 

“I’m fine, Arthur,” Merlin says, shoving himself up into a sitting position. 

“Not sure I’d take your word for it,” Arthur responds, but allows them to move on. “How do we break Guinevere’s enchantment?” 

⁋

Despite the efforts of Gaius, Gwaine, Arthur, and - well, pretty much everyone’s efforts - to convince Merlin to stay behind while Arthur and a few of the knights take Gwen to the Cauldron of Arianrhod, Merlin is walking beside Arthur the next day on his way to the dungeons. 

“You should stay behind,” Arthur says once again. Honestly, Merlin’s lost count of how many times he’s been told that. 

“Oh, sure,” he responds. “As soon as you stop running toward the first sign of danger.” 

Arthur huffs, but says nothing more. 

As they continue toward the dungeons, Arthur’s shoulders tense, as though fighting against a flinch caused by some unseen threat. 

Merlin pauses, footsteps faltering for half a moment before he pushes himself back into motion. 

“You went to see her, didn’t you?” He asks, voice low. 

Arthur’s only response is a nod, and Merlin lets it drop. 

“Well,” he says instead, reaching for anything to distract both Arthur and himself, “when this is all settled, I’m going to find a hiding place and sleep for two weeks.” 

“Find a hiding place?” 

“Yes, ‘cause otherwise, you’ll be dragging me out of bed the instant you need something done, and I won’t be having that.” 

“Oh, really,” Arthur responds, amused. “What’ll stop me from tracking you down and giving you more chores, no matter where you are?” 

“I’ll get Gwaine to stand guard. And Elyan,” Merlin says. Then, he narrows his eyes, tilting his head to the side, adding, “Leon, too, maybe. I still have some material to blackmail him with, I think.” 

“What on earth could Leon possibly have done?” Arthur demands, though his amusement has yet to fade. 

“Now, what good would it do me to tell you that?”

Arthur opens his mouth to respond, but by now, they’ve reached the dungeons and Leon is calling out to update the king. 

“Elyan and Gwaine are waiting for you, sire,” the knight says. 

“Very well,” Arthur responds, eyeing Leon curiously. 

Leon catches sight of Merlin’s smirk and wisely pretends not to notice. 

⁋

The good thing about several knights knowing about Gwen’s enchantment, Merlin discovers, is that it is _really convenient_ in terms of getting around. 

A muffled shout draws his attention back to the matter at hand. 

Gwen fights against Arthur and Elyan, who both hold one of her arms as they lead - _drag_ , really - her through a tunnel that leads from the dungeons to an exit in the back of the castle. 

“So, remind me why we’re not drugging her and carrying her out?” Gwaine asks from in front of Elyan and Arthur.

Elyan mutters an agreement after a sharp elbow to the ribs. 

“ _Because_ ,” Merlin begins for the tenth time, “you and Gwaine barged into Gaius’ chambers while he was holding the vial, and startled him into dropping it. You have no one but yourselves to blame.” 

Elyan mutters a few retorts under his breath, all unflattering, and Merlin huffs a short laugh. 

“You and Gwaine are going to be taking Merlin’s place as the rest of the knights’ sparring partners when we return,” Arthur growls, not quite dodging the kick to the shin aimed his way. He hisses in pain, then shoots a frustrated glare in Gwen’s direction. “I love you very much, but you _really_ need to stop doing that.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’ll work well.” Merlin forces a grin on his face as Arthur glances over his shoulder, still glaring. “Y’know, ‘cause it worked so well five minutes ago.” 

“Do you _want_ to trade places with me, Merlin?” 

“I’m good, thanks.” 

Arthur snorts, shaking his head, but is once again forced to dodge a flailing limb. 

“Gwaine -”

“Don’t even try it, Princess.” 

Though he growls insults under his breath, Arthur doesn’t respond. After all, there is no way he would actually allow anyone to take his place. 

Silence falls, then, and tension rises as it grows. 

Gwen breaks the silence with a muffled scream of frustration, pulling against Elyan and Arthur’s holds. 

“Remind me not to make Gwen angry,” Merlin says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update, but I'm working on the next chapter atm and am kinda hoping/planning to finish the fic tonight. there will be one or two more chapters, not sure when they will be posted. also, this chapter is not beta read.


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